


Where There’s Smoke

by CrowCircle



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 18:04:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20970776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowCircle/pseuds/CrowCircle
Summary: Cold nights, warm words.





	Where There’s Smoke

Lio lay on his back, hips rolling, mind blank but for the feeling of Galo between his splayed thighs, rutting over him so hard that he was pressed up a few inches with every thrust, Galo pulling him by the waist to keep Lio where he wanted him. Lio found himself lost in the feeling, as close to the burning fury as he could ever remember being, his chest tight, breaths coming faster and faster. 

Lio arched his back, fingers curling into fists at the sides of his face. The muscles in his thighs tensed as he drew them up closer to his chest, his calves rubbing along Galo’s sides. He turned his head to the side, shoulders tensing up as he rode the line between absolute pleasure and _too much_, a gutteral noise from Galo goading him on. He let his head loll back, throat bared and back arched almost painfully as he let Galo have his way. 

He felt the rhythm slow, prompting him to open teary eyes. Galo stared down at him, eyes full of the hottest fire Lio had felt in months. He leaned over him, biting down on Lio’s exposed throat. He pressed in slowly, deeply, so much so that Lio’s hands flew to his broad shoulders and dug his nails in, eyelids fluttering between open and closed as Galo rolled his hips, pressed in as deeply as he could be all the while. Lio keened miserably at the sensation, moving his hands from Galo’s shoulders to his scalp. One hand fisted into the long strands hanging down, the other dug into the short, coarse hair on the side of his head—the differing textures only adding to the overload of feeling in his mind. 

Galo slowed to a stop, lifting himself until their faces were centimeters apart, breaths and unspent desire heavy between them as they shared a gaze. 

“You almost died, once,” Galo murmured, voice much deeper than usual. He lifted a hand from Lio’s waist to push a wayward clump of sweaty, blonde hair from his eyes. 

Lio blinked slowly, swollen lips parted for breath as he took in the man on top of him, still seated deeply within him, and the fire he stoked between them. He lifted pale hands to the sides of Galo’s face, pulling him down to kiss him with as much feeling as he could. It was impossible to express the burning within him, but he tried—moaning softly as Galo began to roll his hips again, dominating Lio’s mouth and his body with his fervor. When they parted for air, gasping for lack of it, Lio opened his eyes to give his reply, watching sweat drip down his lover’s face and neck for a few moments before he spoke, watching Galo’s eyes open at the sound. 

“You brought me back,” he whispered against Galo’s lips, before pressing his tongue back into his mouth. He didn’t know how long they rocked together, his thighs tight around Galo’s waist, strong arms around his own back, until they both found their peak and stilled but for their heavy breaths. 

Galo groaned and rolled off of Lio, landing on his back and sighing. Lio frowned at the loss of heat, following and settling mostly on top of him. Galo’s arm wrapped around him, rubbing at the small of his back absently. 

“...Don’t do that again,” Galo said after a moment. Lio hummed a question, unsure what he meant. 

“Dying. Don’t go off dying again.”

“Oh,” he mumbled against Galo’s chest. Lio lifted his face just enough to see his profile, the line of his jaw, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Well...I guess you’ll just have to be there from now on. Just in case.”

He expected Galo to laugh, or otherwise take the opportunity to express his undying, burning love—which he often did, loudly, and publicly—but instead, he rolled to his side so that they faced each other, noses touching. 

“I mean it. Don’t.”

Something about how serious he was made Lio’s heart pound in his chest, an anxiety turned desire in his veins at how intense his stare was. 

“...You know I can’t promise anything like that. You couldn’t either—not really.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose against Galo’s, eyes closing as he received the gesture back. “I’ll do my best. That I _can_ promise.”


End file.
